


Umbra

by broken_paradise



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Depression, Emotional Hurt, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 13:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broken_paradise/pseuds/broken_paradise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His heart pounded against his ribs as he slid to the floor, his head in his hands, shuddering violently, and tears spilling down his cheeks creating dark spots on linen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Umbra

**Author's Note:**

> Sam x Frodo. Angst. It slightly deviates from the movie ending though.

He saw them every night ever since they returned from the quest. Hot blinding flashes of lights, flames creeping up on him, hot wind cutting through his skin. They always the ended same way- him staring into a fiery red abyss as Frodo grew smaller and smaller, disappearing into the flames and that is when he would shoot up from his pillow gasping for breath.

When he looked around his room he saw silvery moonlight pouring in from an open window. He staggered out of bed to the window. His hands glistening with sweat as he gripped the window sill taking deep breaths. His heart pounded against his ribs as he slid to the floor, his head in his hands, shuddering violently, and tears spilling down his cheeks creating dark spots on linen.

It had been almost 2 years since Frodo left and yet he saw him every night. The nightmares wouldn’t stop. They haunted him in darkness of isolated nights. At first there were just flames and the fiery abyss. As the days progressed, he felt the blistering wind blow against his skin and the knots in his stomach tightening. The day he saw Frodo’s face, he woke up and retched till he was numb.

On some nights, he would lay shivering on his bed, trying not to cry. On some nights, when it got too much, he’d be on the floor, crying his heart out till he fell passed out from pure exhaustion.

When mornings arrived with golden sunlight and clear skies, he had to push everything back as he tended to Frodo’s garden. Nobody gave the house or its garden a second glance but he still worked his heart out to keep the trees healthy and the flowers blooming. All but a small clump of irises next to the door had. He vaguely wondered why but never really paid much attention to them. When he was done, he’d sit by the door step with a pipe in his hand, smoking and pondering about anything and everything but never did he let the thoughts of Frodo wander about in his mind. Those thoughts were for when he was alone.

He kept up his cheery façade, smiling and shouting out polite greetings to passer-by’s. He’d still go down to The Green Dragon to drink with Merry and Pippin, smiling and laughing. He’d steal glances at Rosie who sometimes returned them with a coy smile. He’d never go further than that. He had abandoned the thought of them being together a long time ago. He would feel nothing but guilt bubbling in his stomach every time even the mere thought of happiness flitted through his mind.

Maybe this was his life. Maybe he was  _meant_ to be alone. Maybe he was meant to keep looking at Rosie from a distance. Maybe he was meant to not feel happiness.

Even then, his body ached for salvation. He felt the lead ball in his stomach grow heavier as the sun dipped westwards and dyed the little Hobbit village warm orange. It would be dark soon. He knew he had to get back and face his demons.

As the skies grew ebony and the stars shone, he walked back to his house, alone, his steps heavy and hesitant. Home was supposed to be comforting; the sight of his bed was supposed to provide him with solace but all he felt was unease.

It was the same every night. He got into bed, his heart sinking, waiting for sleep to take him, dreading every passing moment as he grew closer and closer to falling asleep.

He saw something different that night. He didn’t see the flames, he didn’t feel the blistering wind scalding his skin, and he didn’t see the fiery abyss. He did, however, see Frodo. But it was different. Everything was bright and Frodo…Frodo was right before him, smiling. His lips moved but there was no sound He looked down to see Frodo’s hand clasping on to his. He felt warmth spread from his fingertips to all over his body. He clutched Frodo’s hand tightly, refusing to let go.

“Mr. Frodo…Mr. Frodo…”

He kept saying it over and over again like a prayer on his lips. Tears blurred his vision and he felt Frodo put his arm around him and pull him into a warm hug.

When he woke up, his room looked different. It was brighter than usual. He got out of his bed and looked out of the window. The sun was up and the sky was as blue as forget-me-nots in full bloom. He felt something surge inside him. He dashed out of his house without even washing up and ran all the way down to Frodo’s house.

When he got to the garden, he couldn’t believe his eyes. The yellow irises had opened slightly. They were about to bloom. He felt his heart pounding in his chest. He looked back and saw Rosie, coming down the path carrying a pail of water. For the first time in 2 years, Samwise Gamgee felt a strong wave of courage and emotions come over him. This was it. He was finally free. He had found it. Salvation.


End file.
